No Big Deal
by PutMoneyInThyPurse
Summary: Little aftermath-scene for "This Guy Smith." Scotty changes the dressing on Kelly's arm.


"Bandage's stuck."

"Wonderfulness… observation skills…"

Scotty squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at his closed eyelids for a moment. Could nothing about this crummy mission go right, even in the aftermath? First their 'guy' Smith turned out to be a girl—then she shot Kel—then the gunshot wound turned out to be, or at least was shaping up to be, infected… That poor arm of Kelly's wasn't half as badly injured as some of the times he'd been hurt before, but from the stiff way he moved and the pinched look on his face, it was clearly giving him pain. Scotty wanted to check out his infection theory, and it had been time to change the bandages anyway, so he'd sat Kelly down on the bed, got his supplies together, taken up his position on the other bed across the conveniently narrow aisle, and started to remove the bandage.

And Kelly had gone completely white and started to shake, scarcely able to stay upright, as the pus-soaked bandage stuck unforgivingly to his bloated arm, radiating heat even underneath the gauze.

Hence Scotty's observation that nothing in this miserable mission could go right. He didn't say it out loud, of course, because Kelly would think it was somehow _his _fault he'd gotten shot. Instead, Scotty sprang up, steadying his shaky partner. "All right. All right. Okay. Here…"

"It appears that…"

"Hush up. Down you go." He placed one behind Kelly's back and steadied his head with the other, lowering him to the horizontal while wishing he had a third hand to steady the infected arm, as well. "There, we—"

Kel's face went white and he gritted his teeth, suppressing a gasp. Bending over him as he was, Scotty had a front-row seat, but he couldn't see the bigger picture. "What…" Then he realized. Kelly had just lifted his legs onto the bed himself, which in that position meant he'd had to lean on his arm. "Oh, nice going, Einstein," Scotty grumbled. "You mind letting me take care of things here, before you accidentally, with all the good intentions in the world, mind, disembowel yourself?"

"Go for…" Kelly chuckled at that, only it came out as a hoarse wisp of breath. By the time Scotty had Kelly settled against the pillows, Kelly was sweating like Niagara Falls, white to the lips.

"Keen," Scotty muttered. He patted the sweat off Kelly's pale face, then set about getting the stuck gauze off. "Need to soak this, Chester."

"Water, water, everywhere," Kelly breathed. "Go for yourself, Popeye The…"

"Mm-hmm." Scotty hated how weak Kelly's voice was, as he adjourned to the bathroom, looking for a handy receptacle. A tub of water would have been ideal, but there wasn't one and he sure wasn't going to trust the wastebasket, and he finally settled on several towels and three cups of lukewarm water.

"Gonna have to lift that arm to get the towel under it, man. Brace yourself."

Prepared, Kelly clenched his teeth; Scotty could see the effort it took to remain silent, but he did, although his breath was harsh when Scotty lowered the arm down to the towel. He eyed Kel narrowly; the guy looked like he needed a break. "Let me do this first…" Using his other hand to control the flow of water, he slowly soaked the offending bandage thoroughly, then rose, giving it a minute to act. "You are going to have to go on wonder drugs," he declared to the chest of drawers, as he went over to root into their kit.

"Better be a good trip… man…"

Cheerful as every irritating day nurse Scotty'd seen in a hospital, he bounced back to Kelly with a wide, falsely cheerful grin, and was rewarded when the pale face quirked into a smile. "This, my prone patient, is penicillin to fight the infection and some handy-dandy super-duper pain stuff. You look all in."

"Supine." Kelly's voice had a little more strength in it, but he still let Scotty steady him as he took the glass and downed the tablets.

"Huh?"

"Supine. Prone's face-down. Supine is…"

"On the spine, right. Have to give you a Ph.D. in Linguistics." Scotty saturated the gauze with more water, then started peeling it away from the oozing, infected gunshot wound. Sweat suddenly stood out on Kelly's brow again, and he arched up off the bed, but made no sound. "So…" he paused a moment, letting Kel catch his breath, "seen any good movies lately?"

The laugh that Kelly let out was almost a sob,as Scotty unwound the gauze. He was as gentle as he could, but it still came up hard, taking chunks of bloody pus with it. "How'd it go so bad so fast?" Scotty muttered.

"They musta… forgot to sterilize… the ground," Kelly moaned.

"Guess they did at that. And you couldn't manage to fall on your good arm, could ya."

"Too busy… getting shot at the time." Kelly gasped again, and clenched his jaw shut.

Scotty fell silent_. How bad? Wonderful_. And he'd taken Kelly at his word. It wasn't like there was anything he could have done, not when Sally'd have had no qualms about shooting the both of them, but it hadn't exactly been fun playing the uncaring ingrate and walking off, and now, seeing Kelly suffering like this…

"Hey, Jack," Kelly whispered.

"Hm?" Scotty looked up, regretting it as he realized he hadn't been able to erase the negative emotions from his face.

"No big deal, man. Don't sweat it."

Scotty ran a hand over his eyes incredulously. "No big deal?" Kel coulda lost an arm, could still lose it with all this infection, and he called it no big deal. His own injuries meant nothing. So what else was new, besides being set to lose an arm? "You'd lose your head if it wasn't attached," he threw out, feeling the quip was somewhat out of place and noticing that Kelly, despite his pain, didn't seem to be missing much. Drat.

He unwound the gauze from Kel's blistered palm. Broke the blisters, of course, and probably got dirt in there as well, but at least that looked clean, no infection, although it was an angry red. "That still hurt?" he murmured, careful not to touch.

"Not really," Kelly panted. He sounded like he'd been running a marathon, and Scotty's heart went out to him. "Not too…"

"Easy, hm?" Scotty placed a gentle hand on Kelly's sternum, intending to soothe, but kept it there, palm flat, as he felt Kelly's heart thundering in his chest, battering against his hand. "Whoa, far_ out. _Mile-a-minute."

"The hero's fugitive heart, desperate for love, beat its wings against his rib cage," Kelly said in his best sickly-sweet Women's Radio Hour voice.

"Thank you for the emetic," Scotty deadpanned, fractionally stroking Kelly's chest. If he closed his eyes, he could almost form a mental image of holding and quieting his heart…

He blinked as the frantic pounding of Kelly's heart eased off a fraction. Good thing he'd given him a breather. "Sorry, but I gotta clean this stuff out," he said, wincing inwardly, knowing what it was going to do to Kelly. Nothing hurt all that much worse than debriding an active bacterial infection.

"Do what you need to," Kelly said, giving him permission to cause pain. His good hand fumbled upwards, gripping the bedstead in preparation for the ordeal ahead. Scotty's stomach clenched to see it.

"Hey, wait." He let go of Kel's arm and rose. "Gonna give you a local."

Kelly narrowed his eyes. "Not that I would disapprove…" he had to stop and pant shallowly before continuing, "but won't Washington complain about wasting resources?"

Scotty stilled, his hands still in their pack. "Do you know," he grated, "what Washington can do with their resources?"

Kelly laughed. "Why, Augustine, I didn't know you had it in ya."

"Had what in me?" Scotty asked innocently, withdrawing the syringe and the alcohol. "All I have in me is a very fine lunch…"

Kelly tried to turn onto his side, but seemed to think better of it. "Had it in ya to _cuss, _youEagle Scout, you."

"Now was I cussin'? Was I?" Scotty swabbed Kelly's unhurt upper arm, as close to the imjury as he dared, and depressed the plunger. Too many shots he'd given Kel over the years, too many injuries, too much…

"You was. Heard it myself."

"Then you oughta get your ears tested," Scotty said smoothly, locating an unhurt spot where the gunshot ended and the burn began, and injecting in another load of anesthetic, "because nothing passed my lips that would not be acceptable in polite company."

"I sure am not polite company, Homer. Besides, the cuss was _implied_ in the hypothetical question with which you answered me."Kelly's eyes fixed on his, and he suddenly realized why Kel was kidding him so relentlessly. The pain, the fatigue, the soul-weariness, all swam beneath the urgent assurance Kel was pushing to the surface:_ Not your fault, pal. Did the best you could with what you had. You know that, Scotty._

Scotty blinked. Tentatively, he reached out and touched Kel's arm, light as anything. "Feel that?"

"Feel what?"

He pressed a little harder. "How 'bout now?"

"Nope. Numb as General Fitzwallace's heart."

Scotty couldn't help a small smile. "That good, huh?"

"Better believe it." Kel's voice was getting drowsy – the endorphin high that came with the relief from pain.

"That's it," Scotty soothed, "just relax…" He winced as the swab came away heavy with blood and pus, but persevered, cleaning until the entire area was raw and shining, dotted with fresh blood in places, but clean. Alcohol, powder that was supposed to ward off infection, bandages… careful, so careful, so meticulous, don't make a mistake this time, don't want him to hurt when he wakes up.

He was panting himself by the time the last strip of gauze had been tied off. He sat back, admiring his handiwork, hoping it was good enough, hoping Kel would feel well and relaxed when he woke up. Unable to resist, he placed his palm over Kel's heart again, feeling the strong beat, much slower and calmer now. He sighed with relief, and breathed, giving himself a moment to relax and enjoy it. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table; three o'clock, so if Kel needed more painkillers he could take them at seven. He'd whine about no alcohol with them, of course, but…

His train of thought cut off abruptly as he saw the hazel eyes open, blearily but piercingly fixed on him. He made to remove his hand from Kelly's chest, but Kel was too quick for him, and placed his uninjured hand on top of Scotty's. "You 'kay, man?" he breathed.

"Me? Why should you doubt the health of my wonderful self? I am fine. _I _did not get shot or burned, man, really, you…"

"You got stuck takin' care of the bozo who _did."_

"How's 'bout you not insult my partner? Especially when I left him on the ground with a gunshot wound."

"A wonderful gunshot wound…" Kelly panted. "Besides, if you'd left Sally we'd both be six feet under right now."

"Not the grooviest turn of events."

"Certainly not." Kelly paused. "So, can I stop worryin' about you, Chester? Wearing me into an early grave, you are," he yawned, "with your shenani… nanigin…"

Scotty threw back his head and laughed. "You wanna sleep, like now."

"Like wow." But Kelly's dancing eyes were already closing.

"Sleep."

"Yes… mom." Kelly snuggled into the covers as Scotty draped them carefully over him. "Night."

Scotty carefully didn't mention that it was 3 PM, because it was no big deal. And he didn't sweat anything that wasn't a big deal.


End file.
